Dogs and chickens may not mix well

I was in Rural King the other day and there was a poster of chickens. Chickens of all varieties – sizes, colors, meat, eggs, etc., that seemed endless. Nashville has just passed a law allowing people to keep up to four hens – no roosters allowed. One half of every new trade magazine we received over the past six months has been taken up with poultry-related items, from coops to toys.

It reminded me that a few columns ago I mentioned that the Cavaliers were easy when compared to the "terrible trio" of poodles. And that made me realize that I had perhaps told a little white lie, and it's time to fess up.

Years ago we lived out in Shiloh. It was beautiful. The house sat back about one-half mile from the road and was surrounded by pasture where the owner kept a herd of cattle. It had a pond and a stream that eventually met up with Yellow Creek, and best of all, not a neighbor in sight. We got to know everyone around us, but couldn't see anyone. It was great and needless to say, the dogs loved it there. They thought they were in heaven.

Before the big tornado took away most of downtown, we bought our dog food at Ely Feed. Each spring they had chicks and ducks, so one Easter I got John three of each to complete the idyllic picture. Any idea yet where this is going?

The ducklings stayed in or near the pond, and the chicks around the house – usually. The first month went well enough. When they heard the dogs go out in the morning they all came running to the back door for the leftover dog food. Granted, it is not poultry food, but they had the most beautiful feathers you have ever seen!

Then one day, only two ducks came. Eventually they both stopped coming up for their meals and when they got big enough, flew off for parts unknown. Then one morning only two chickens came to breakfast. After looking around I saw a huge pile of white feathers near where the cattle were grazing. Those two stayed near the house from then on. One roosted on the bathroom windowsill (outside). John had named her Annie and I could hear them discussing their respective days through the door in the morning.

I'll have to call Annie the smart one. And now to my white lie. When I called the Cavaliers easy, I didn't say dumb, and they are true spaniels. They know how to climb chain-link fencing but like to just get to the top and stay there looking around as if on the top of the world.

John and Annie were having their little morning talks and when I went out back with the food, only Annie came. As I walked around the house I saw Abby, who this time went over the fence. She was the very first Cavalier we had ever bred, and there she stood with a mouth full of feathers and nothing left but a yellow beak and two matching feet.

The moral of the story is that if you have a dog, think long and hard before adding a chicken to the mix.